Still
by Lucy Hallowell
Summary: Prompted by Marieill Hill, the Vanderwaal/McCullers White House will meet with a staffer from Senator Hastings' office about a bill in need of the President's support.


"I'll have a pink drink," President Mona Vanderwaal says to the flight attendant who scurries to the front of the plane.

"Still?" Her travel companion asks, looking up from a stack of papers.

"Always."

"That explains your penchant for interns with curly blond hair." Vice President Paige McCullers relishes the rare opportunity to needle the leader of the free world.

"And why yours always have swimmer's shoulders and shiny hair." The attendant appears with a small tray. She places cocktail napkins with the Presidential seal on them on the mahogany desk between the two women.

"Your pink drink, Madam President and your Knob Creek and Coke, Madam Vice President."

The President waves the attendant away. "Thank you," the VP says, covering for her boss' rudeness with a smile.

"It wouldn't kill you to be polite," she adds once the attendant is gone.

"I don't have to be nice, I'm the fucking President."

"Mona, you don't have to be nice but you don't have to be a dick either."

Mona waves her hand dismissively. "Who do you have tomorrow? I'm meeting with Senator Byron. God, that man is the worst."

"I have someone from Senator Hastings office."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to meet with staffers? You're the fucking Vice President. You meet with Senators, world leaders, not some khaki and blazer wearing, Princeton graduate, whose daddy got him a job on the Hill."

McCullers swirls her drink, the ice colliding with the glass, and takes a sip. "You know I never meet with Princeton grads. Fucking douchebags, all of them."

The President, sipped her drink through one of the bendy straws she ordered the staff to stock in her desk. She leans back in her desk chair and arranges her tiny feet on the desk, ankles crossed, impossibly high heels pointing at her colleague.

"Emily."

McCullers takes a gulp of her drink and rubs her thumb along the outside of the glass to clear the condensation. She opens a grey folder and slips her glasses back on.

"Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?"

McCullers gives a rueful laugh. "After you knocked Hillary out of the primaries? No."

The President takes another sip and flips through a stack of papers. "I get your schedule everyday, how did you think I wouldn't know?"

"Take a look, tell me if you see her on there."

"9:15 E. Palmer. She changed her name?"

"She got married." McCullers downs the rest of her drink and stands up balancing a stack of folders in her hands. "Thanks for the drink. I'll be in my office if you need me."

The Vice President straightens her diploma on the wall and catches a glimpse of her reflection in the glass. Over the years Vice President McCullers has met some of Stanford's other famous alumni: Tiger Woods, Sandra Day O'Connor, hell, Rachel Maddow interviewed her a couple times during the campaign but it's the woman who never matriculated that she can't get out of her mind.

"Your 9:15 is here, ma'am."  
Paige takes a look out of the rain streaked windows, straightens her suit jacket, and, without turning around, says "Thank you. Please send her in."

Paige takes a seat behind her immense desk but can't suppress the urge to stand when Emily enters the room.

"Would you or Mrs. Palmer like anything to drink?" Paige inclines her head toward Emily and raises her eyebrows.

"I'd love a glass of water, please," Emily says bestowing a warm smile on Paige's assistant.

Paige's heart gives a lurch and she manages, "Same for me, please, Donna." Donna gives a nod and disappears for a moment before returning with two glasses of water. She leaves silently as Emily sits in an armchair and Paige returns to her place behind the desk.

"Madam Vice President," Emily begins.

"Mrs. Palmer," Paige interjects with a smirk. Emily blushes and struggles to open her leather folio. "Please, call me Emily." Still struggling with her files, Emily misses the smile that flashes across Paige's face.

"What brings you to my office this morning?"

"A cause near and dear to the Senator's heart. She is going to sponsor a bill to provide relief to Haiti as it continues to rebuild."

"Near and dear to the Senator's heart or your wife's?"

Emily narrows her eyes and squares her shoulders. "I work for Senator Hastings."

"Yes, but you sleep with your wife."

"Perhaps I am wasting your time with this." Emily stands up to leave and Paige stands, once again unable to fight the manners drilled into her as a child.

"No, forgive me. Please sit down," Paige gestures to the chair, and walks around her desk to take the chair to Emily's left. She catches the scent of Emily's perfume, the same kind Paige gave her when they were teenagers and her mind flies to the memory of kissing Emily beside her pool. Her head dips forward and she struggles to maintain her composure.

"Well, the project calls for the appropriation of funds to pay for infrastructure to some of the more rural communities as well a aid to target some of the poorly constructed buildings that didn't fall during the earthquake but which are susceptible to damage from even a minor tremor."

Paige maintains eye contact with Emily as she listens and nods at the appropriate moments but her chest is filled with the same ache she carried with her from the moment she first saw Emily Fields.

"That all sounds good. But I need to see the numbers. Do you have some to leave with me? I would like to review it and then I can take it to the President if I think it's something we can work with."

Emily smiles and hands a bound packet to the Vice President. "I came prepared," Emily says and Paige can't decide if she's flirting or not.

"Great. Well I'll take a look at this and if I have any questions I'll have Donna call and set up another time for us to meet."

"I'm out of town next week, but any time this week is fine." Emily says heading toward the door.

"Vacation with the Mrs?" Paige asks while flipping through the packet of materials.

"I'll look forward to hearing from you, Vice President," Emily says extending her hand.

"I'll be in touch," Paige says as she studies Emily's face. She's seen this look before, but it's been so long she can't be sure if it's just wishful thinking on her part.

"It's a good proposal," Paige says over the phone to the President's Chief of Staff. "The President should take a look."

"She's authorizing military operations, this would be a nice thing to announce too. Perhaps a ceremony in the Rose Garden..."

Paige rolls her eyes. "I'll come over this afternoon to talk to her about it." Paige hangs up and studies the proposal for any areas Mona might attack.

"Is she ready for me?" The President's secretary nods and opens the door to the Oval Office. Before the door shuts Mona starts speaking. "How'd she look? Gorgeous I would guess by your push to get me to agree to this garbage."

"Good afternoon to you, too."

"Oh come on, tell me this is something more than a chance for you to spend time with Emily Fields."

"Palmer."

Mona narrows her eyes and sweeps her gaze over Paige for the first time since she entered the room. "Prada. You really pulled out all the stops, didn't you?" Even from halfway across the room Mona can see the bulge of Paige's jaw as she clenches it. Mona's face twists with a serpentine grin. "Let me guess, she wore a pencil skirt, grey most likely. A sleeveless blouse? She always liked purple, but I'm guessing she wore black to see you. And heels. She's not my bag of chips, but she does have killer legs." Mona sees color rising in Paige's cheeks and gives a triumphant smirk. "She's playing you. You're the fucking Vice President of the United States and she's playing you on the strength of some teenage infatuation."

"That's not true," Paige growls, staring at the seal in the center of the room.

"Tell me this is a bill that you would have given a second's thought if Emily Fields hadn't sauntered into your office, looking and smelling like your teenage dream?"

"It's a good bill. Frankly, since you're planning to bomb the shit out of another country I thought it might do you some good to look like you actually give a fuck about anything but destruction and revenge."

"Not about high school? Who are you kidding, McCullers?" Mona looks back down at the papers on her desk.

"You owe me."

Mona looks up and gives a bemused smile. "I _owe_ you?"

"Emily and I would have been together if she hadn't stopped to save _your_ life. If she lets you die alone in your car in the middle of nowhere, she never hurts her shoulder, she never has to give up swimming, and we go to Stanford together. We live out our happily ever after. Instead, she loses her chance at a scholarship and ends up at Bryn Mawr."

Mona looks back at her papers. She shuffles them, signs three pages and tucks them in a folder before looking up again. "Find out if this bill is for her wife. If it isn't, we can talk. I don't _do_ lost causes."

Paige gives a curt nod and leaves. With the door shut behind her, she picks up a butterscotch from the dish on the secretary's desk, tosses it in the air, and smiles as she walks out into the hallway.

Paige's suit jacket hangs by the door, ready to go to the dry cleaners. She changed into a sleeveless burgundy shirt, but left her suit pants on. She lights the candles when she hears a knock on the door. Emily is standing there, hair glistening with droplets of rain, wearing a purple sleeveless dress. Paige smirks, thinking of Mona's comment of Emily's favorite color. "Come in," she says, stepping out of the way to allow Emily to walk past her.

"Where's your coat?"

"Secret service took it downstairs." Paige hands Emily a glass of white wine. They clink their glasses together and each take a sip. Emily cocks her head to the side and studies Paige's face. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Paige says with an innocent look.

"About the wine?"

"Oh, that. You mentioned the white wine you had in Corniglia and I figured, being Vice President, I could probably get my hands on a bottle or two."

"Madam Vice President..."

"Please, drop that."

"Paige, the last time I was in Cinque Terre was ten years ago."

"You sent me a postcard." Emily smiles. Paige's lungs seize and her heart hammers. She walks into her kitchen. "I don't cook mussels very well so I ordered in. Have a seat."

Emily sits and sips her wine while Paige assembles their dinner.

"You do this a lot? Have guests to talk about legislation?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" Paige gives her best puppy dog look over her glass. "The truth is that security is such a hassle when I go to a restaurant. We usually have to shut the place down, so I don't do it very much. The President had a few urgent questions about the bill before she signs off, and I thought this was the best way to do it. Do you mind?"

Emily laughs. The sound and the memories it evokes startle Paige. She drops her fork and then blushes. "No, I don't mind having dinner with you. For any reason. What concerns does the President have that are so pressing?"

Paige sighs and takes a bite of her mussels. They are garlicky and buttery and she moans at the first bite. Emily laughs again. "Sorry, I didn't realize they would be so good. The President is concerned about how committed Senator Hastings is to this bill. Is the Senator prepared to fight for it or is this really more _your _pet project?"

Emily tilts her head to the side, releasing her hair to fall into a curtain around her shoulder. "You already told me that want to know if I'm doing this for Zoe, and you're telling me the President does, too?"

"If the President is going to support a bill for Senator Hastings, she needs to know that she's going to have the Senator's gratitude. It does her no good to have yours." Paige looks away, sickened by the sound of her "Vice Presidential" tone.  
"Dr. Palmer and I are no longer married," Emily's face is stony but her eyes flash with anger. "Yes, this bill was my idea. I know the President has always seen me as some kind of weakling, but I am offended that you, of all people, would think that I can't think for myself." Emily stands up. "I hope you got what you needed, Madam Vice President."

"No, wait." Paige hops up and steps in front of Emily before she can go. "Don't leave. I'm sorry about Zoe. Really. Please at least stay and help me eat all this food. We can talk about something other than the bill."

Emily shifts her weight between her feet and considers Paige's expression before returning to the table. For several minutes they eat in a tense silence. Paige refills Emily's glass when it runs low and clears the plates. "Do you hate me too much to stay for dessert?" Paige calls from the kitchen.

"I don't hate you. Although I can't say I love the President using you to question me."

"It's sort of my job," Paige calls from the other room where she is slicing brownies and smothering them with vanilla ice cream.

"Maybe, but I will never get used to Mona running everything."

Paige's laugh arrives in the dining room ahead of her. "Now, these I made myself." She puffs out her chest and places a dish in front of Emily.

"Zoe never ate dessert. Well, that's not true. She never ate dessert with me, not even at our wedding."

"Well then she's an idiot. You looked stunning at your wedding."

"Thanks," Emily says looking down. "Zoe did eat dessert at least once. A year ago, she choked on a coconut cupcake and some woman gave her the Heimlich. Next thing I know, she tells me she's leaving me for lady in shining armor and I'm looking at divorce papers."

Paige snorts and then tries to compose herself. "I'm sorry. Only a fool would ever leave you, Emily."

Emily fixes her gaze on the wall behind Paige. "Or a girl with a swimming scholarship."

Paige winces at the memory of hugging Emily good bye before boarding her plane for California. "I wish..."

"I know, me too." Emily says with a tight smile. Paige dips her head wishing for a moment that Emily were not Emily Fields or Emily Palmer, but just some regular Senator so she wouldn't have to feel like her lungs were collapsing under the pressure from her thumping heart.

"What about you, Paige, are you using your charm and power to woo every woman on this side, or for that matter, either side, of the Atlantic?"

Paige shakes her head and tries to cover her embarrassment by taking a bite of her dessert. "There must be a million broken hearts all over the globe, then. Including mine." Paige looks up at Emily and then drops her gaze back to her lap.

"Don't look away," Emily stands up walks around the table until she standing over Paige. "Come here," Emily takes Paige's hand and pulls her to her feet. "You think I pushed for that bill for Zoe, but the truth is, I was looking for a way to get to you."

Paige's face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Really?"

"Do you think I would work for Spencer for any other reason?"

Paige leans in and pauses an inch from Emily's face. Before she can pull away, Emily closes the gap by lacing her fingers through Paige's hair and leaning forward. Paige puts the palm of one hand on the small of Emily's back and presses her hips into Emily's. They both stumble a few steps toward the kitchen before Paige pulls away.

"Wait," she gasps. "Just wait. Are you sure about this? I mean we could go on a proper date, even to a movie..."

"Shut up Paige. We had a proper date. Wine, dinner, even dessert. Now shut up and show me where the Vice President sleeps."


End file.
